


Have Violent Ends

by euphoricxdystopia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, anakin and rex say goodbye, everything is not okay, im hurt, just before ROTS, protective!rex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 03:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16589888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoricxdystopia/pseuds/euphoricxdystopia
Summary: Rex can’t see the end of the war, Anakin knows of it all too well – but they’re both afraid and more similar than they’d like to believe.Or, Anakin and Rex part ways before ROTS.





	Have Violent Ends

**Author's Note:**

> tw: mention of suicide
> 
> i want more anakin/rex in this fandom :(

The galaxy had become grey in the past months. The blaster fire of both armies, their explosions destroying the earth, the fires raining down from the sky had drained the many worlds of their euphoric bliss of peace and dulled them into this unsettling, grey dust that had taking the serenity since the war began. Each new system that had become coated in the ash was another tally in Rex’s mind, another lost world, tainted by something that has been going on for far too long with no ending in near sight. 

 

He was a clone, when it came down to it. A clone just like thousands of the men were, and he knew none of them were designed to feel things like regret, trepidation and longing – but he did. He was born for war, it was his one purpose in life. He had a duty to the Republic, and that was all he was – but by a fault in his programed modifications, or an adaptation by his battlefield elements, he wished for the end of the Clone War. 

 

He, himself was covered in the grey, almost smothered by its existence – all the men were. It ate at them the way their battles scars did. Each burn was a hot ash of trauma on their skin, every bolt wound was a singe of unforgettable brotherly screams, and the flesh marks – they were more of a tally from each battle lost than the tallies on their amour. 

 

He would fight until the end of the war for his Republic, though lately he was beginning to question if there was going to be an end, at all. 

 

He knew there was most definitely an end to his days, at least. It wasn’t a suicidal way of thought, more so, an obvious one – but clones weren’t meant to question these things about their futures. They were made for the here and now, for war and battle, for their Republic and victory… but the further and deeper the fighting has dragged on, something was made clear to Rex that he knew he wasn’t supposed to realize. 

 

More and more, the Captain had been seeing the grey spread to his General. There were shadows constantly carving themselves into Skywalker’s face, the endlessly reckless tactics were pilling on as fast as the injuries, and his eyes would go hazy, though transfixed in battle as if fighting was the only thing he knew to do anymore.

 

They’re on Mandalor’s landing platform when Rex wants to ask if Skywalker sees the grey, as well. If maybe his Force-sensitive intuition can pinpoint the end of all things, if there were just wasting everything they had away – or if the ash that had coated the majority of the galaxy will fade.

 

“This rescue mission is pretty risky, General. Sure you don’t want Gold Squadron to tag along?” Rex asked instead, because he may have existential questions, but he’s more concerned for the well-being of his superior. 

 

“Everything I do is risky, Rex.” Skywalker replied, familiarly – repetitively. It was a game, almost – one that took place before every mission, battle and assault. Rex would point out the reckless flaws, the suicidal tactics and Skywalker would brush them off, succeed in his mission alone, and end up half-dead because of it. He got results, but he also got electrocuted, and shot, and tortured… Rex was supposed to protect him, so he tried. “Don’t worry, I have Obi-Wan with me who will be watching me the whole time.” It was hard to miss the scowl that plagued his face. Typical, yet dark at the same time. 

 

“Just trying to look out for you, sir.” Rex said, and watch Skywalker walked up to his starfighter that would take him back to Coruscant. The Captain followed. 

 

“I know, Rex.” The General said, close to a sigh but not quite. He leaned against the wing, looking more tired than he’s even been throughout the whole war. “But I’m going to be fine. Plus, you need to stay here and take care of Ahsoka. She’s not going to defeat Maul alone.” He looked away into the direction of where the battle was currently taking place. Perhaps Skywalker wanted to stay here as well, fight and protect his old Apprentice, but another part of him seemed to ache towards going back to Coruscant. Rex had become better at reading his Jedi General throughout being under his command, though this moment was one he couldn’t decipher.

 

“I won’t let anything happen to her, General.” He may not ever be sure about the end of the war, or his time fighting within it – but protecting his Jedi was absolute. The day he fails to save his superiors, the day the war is lost. The grey consumes everything.

 

“I know.” Skywalker said. He was tense, darting his eyes around for something, feeling something that Rex couldn’t feel, and this unnerved him – made his blood go cold, his heart plummeted for just a moment. Skywalker wasn’t like this. He was brash, impulsive, headstrong and determined, he wasn’t  _ this _ .

 

“Normally you love these missions, right? You act as if you’re not afraid of anything half the time, sir.” Rex said softy. He took in his General’s form, and though he saw the tough, invincible facade Skywalker wore as vitally as amour, his walls were crumbling as the dusk settled behind Mandalore’s horizon like. 

 

The Hero of the Republic was what the public saw, this unbreakable machine that was more so a war figure than a human. To the Jedi, he were numbers and results and the statistical parts of battle – the ones that either said ‘success’ or ‘failure’, and more often than not, an abused binary code that they sent away to the most dangerous of places to add another ‘success’ to their war records. 

 

No one saw the undercurrent. No one saw this person desperately trying to hold up a front that just couldn’t stay up anymore, holes eroding in the mask being leaked away with exhaustion, and agony, and the dread of a future he’s giving up on fighting to unsee. 

 

Skywalker was afraid, his eyes bore the kind of knowledge that people have once they’ve live too long in the worst of ways. He’s seen it all, he’s seen the end of the war, and the end is nigh. Rex should’ve felt relive, but all he envisioned was pain.

 

The General tore his eyes away from Rex as if he couldn’t bare to look at his Captain any longer. He didn’t want to look at anything, it seemed. He chose to shut himself off from the world, screw his eyes closed and pushing his fingers into his sockets.

 

“Because I’m not supposed to be.” Skywalker whispered, and a wave of unforgiving trepidation moved through the air like a ghost passing through his body, completely cold and drained of life. 

 

“Everyone’s afraid.” Rex murmured, unsure if he was supposed to speak. He felt as if he’d seen something he wasn’t supposed to, and in turn, it was going to eat at him just as the grey was.

 

“Jedi aren’t.” He scoffed. “I am.”

 

Rex wanted to ask what he meant by that, if he was planning to do the same thing Ahsoka did, leaving and abandoning everything because it was right. Though Skywalker would always be the most amazing General and fighter in the war effort, Rex knew the battlefield was not where he needed to be in order to keep his sanity. The sky of a million stars was made for him, but the war was painting him in grey, shadowy dust that was breaking though his defenses, coating him with cold, and killing him. 

 

Rex was no Jedi, but he saw that much. Hell, not even the Jedi did. 

 

“This is going to end..” Rex told him, unsure of what he was even promising. “It has to.”

 

Skywalker got into his fighter and R2-D2 started up the take off sequence with beeps and twirls. “That, Rex, I’m sure of. I’m going to make it so.” His face bled into determination, shadows darkly etching onto his features. This was no longer his facade, but his truth. 

 

He was the grey. 

 

“May the Force be with you, General Skywalker.” Rex told him. It was their goodbye, he could feel it through his veins, the veins that pumped blood made for war. It was their end, they were all undone.

 

Skywalker’s fighter blazed into the dusk atmosphere, and Rex strode back to the battlefield and did what he was made to do. 

**Author's Note:**

> i used to be so obsessed with sw and tcw, but haven’t been involved with it or the fandom since like early 2017, though i started watching tcw again, and ig im back?


End file.
